


The Long, Dark Night Lord of the Soul

by BuddyWritesFic



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Character Study, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27707936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyWritesFic/pseuds/BuddyWritesFic
Summary: After the Heretics kill the Emperor and seize Terra, Konrad struggles to find meaning in his life.
Relationships: Konrad Curze/Fulgrim (WH40K)
Kudos: 15





	The Long, Dark Night Lord of the Soul

Konrad Curze skulked the shadows of the Imperial Palace on heavy, dragging feet. He was overtired and miserable. His life had been a maelstrom of noise and cruelty, and he’d endured it so far with the knowledge that at some point, _finally_ , the day would end, and his Father would send someone to put him to bed.

But the nursemaid never came. There was no assassin, because there was no one to order an assassin, because Father had blithely departed to his own grave without a thought for the monsters left behind him or the galaxy they threatened.

It was an outrage! Konrad, a connoisseur of abandonment, had never felt so neglected in his life.

He’d been too hopeful, too trusting. In retrospect, it was stupid to think the Emperor would care enough to have him murdered, no matter how many times or how clearly he saw it. It was his destiny to make stupid mistakes like that.

Now he wished someone would kill him for being an idiot as well as a monster.

He chewed his victim’s head, crushing the skull and smearing brain pulp on his face. He wiped his gore-spattered mouth on the gilded marble carvings as he walked down the hallway. No one did anything about it. No one cared.

He’d been stabbed in the gut once when he was little, and he felt that same pain now. It spread out to his whole body, filled his eyes and ears, choked the breath from his throat. He turned his steps toward Fulgrim’s studio, mangled corpse in hand. He couldn’t take one more minute of being ignored. He was going to break something important.


End file.
